In lieu of doing any of the things I really should be doing, which is finishing any of the partially completed reviews that are piling up in my drafts, and in between slices of rum torte and way too many Bohme Weinbrand Kirschen, I stumbled upon the most fascinating streaming programs on the Hulu, but then again, it could be the liquor talking.
As I was beginning this portion of this ridiculous holiday post, I realized that our beagle, William Henry Harrison, peed in our laundry basket, then I noticed someone left a plastic bag filled with excrement covered infant clothing in my kitchen. This was not a pleasant holiday surprise, and then I was forced to sterilize my entire life.
Puppies Crash Christmas is a short film where naughty puppies ransack a prepared holiday set. Dogs eat gingerbread houses, lap at enormous punchbowls of eggnog, and discreetly crap amongst extravagant holiday packages which they happily shredded. It was adorable, and set up the day for continuous Dadaesque programming.
The least successful of these absurd programs, Gingerbread Home Remodel features a static camera placed before a gingerbread house at a holiday office party, as revelers tear off bits of the pastry. I recently spoke with someone about how the best part of any holiday party is the ghosting, where one appears at the party and then abruptly leaves without a goodbye. It's the perfect alibi, where one can claim they were at the party, but not suffer through the exhausting horror of actually being at the party. Anyway, I disliked this program because I couldn't actually leave from it. That was kind of a lie, I left the room several times for more cake.
One of the more enjoyable entries in the series because a home intruder appears to be trapped in a chimney gifting the viewer some unexpected Xmas schadenfreude, Stuck Santa is nearly an hour of booted feet dangling from a fireplace as the hapless intruder weakly cries for help or exclaims in a muffled voice, "I hate the tiny house movement!". Occasionally the boots kick, or tools and presents drop from the chimney, breaking the monotony.
In this Warhol-esque entry, a static camera is positioned in front of an herb-encrusted roast beast surrounded by red-skinned potatoes as it cooks for 52 minutes, with nothing but the ambient sound of the oven's thermostat adjusting the roasting temperature. Much like Warhol's Empire, nothing happens, that is until oven-mitted hands retrieve the finished dish.
And finally, Two Tickets To Christmastown is another static camera program, this time it is placed beneath a Christmas tree with a roaring fireplace in the background, as a miniature toy train circles around the presents beneath the tree for nearly an hour. Mrs. Deathrage demands that I mention the extremely shallow depth of field.
I'm contemplating watching the other programs, the one about sap and the other about thermostats, but I think I'll get another slice or two of the rum torte first.